


Interchanged

by PhantomWriter



Series: It's a weird start (but we'll be fine) [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Swap, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Olivarry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 01:04:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11703570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriter/pseuds/PhantomWriter
Summary: body swap





	Interchanged

**Author's Note:**

> a totally unprompted crack-ish(?) body swap AU fanfic that nobody asks for but you'll be getting anyway.
> 
> warning: lots of swearing and fourth wall breaking

He feels like shit.

 

Last night’s face off with the new metahuman in town gave him aches in different places (it’s laughable now that he thinks about it) that is very similar to having your body get used to exercise again. After lightning, his fast regeneration made it no longer possible for him to wake up to sore muscles; it’s kind of weird experiencing it now.

 

He feels even worse when he was woken up by some noise that sounds vaguely like a mouse. And since when had he gotten that sensitive to little scratching sounds like that? If he recalled correctly, sensitive hearing isn’t part of The Flash's features.

 

When he finds himself staring at unfamiliar ceiling, he sits up abruptly, hairs on his back standing and _everything feels wrong._

For one, he is looking around a place that resembles the Arrowcave and _yeah, this is the Arrowcave and what am I doing here?_

It’s not like his favorite vigilante is into inviting The Flash into sleepovers at his headquarters so there should be no reason for Barry to be there.

 

He hopes someone is around because he’s confused and there’s a slight panic in his gut that he can’t will away despite being in a friendly territory.

 

He walks past this tall mirror that they keep around and— _fuck_ , it better be a magic mirror or something because he swears his reflection looks like Oliver Queen.

 

Like, you know, Oliver Queen in all his shirtless glory and hard body and scars that Barry has been secretly digging since day one.

 

Barry Allen’s most incredulous waking thought so far was: _lightning gave me abs?_

 

Now it’s trumped by: _I finally have Oliver’s body on me but not the way I imagined._

* * *

 

He wakes up to an alarm clock, and that is already a telltale sign that something’s not right.

 

That and the feeling of taking his time—which he shouldn’t because he doesn’t have the luxury of having superspeed. If this is what Barry feels then it’s no wonder why the young man is always late (fortunately, not on situations that matter, but still).

 

And if Oliver _accidentally_ transported himself to an unfamiliar bathroom, well, he can attribute it to some kind of dream (nightmare?) where he happened to have slept in Barry’s apartment last night and he can’t remember how.

 

And, oh, he has his abilities too and his voice and even his appearance and his everything.

 

Shit. He’s _literally_ Barry Allen.

 

* * *

 

“Do you know how this happened?”

 

“I wish I know, Oliver. Do you?”

 

“No idea.”

 

A sigh. “So we’re stuck?”

 

“I hope not.” A beat. “I’ll try S.T.A.R. Labs.”

 

“I’m thinking of the same thing. We never encountered a case like this before but I’m sure Cisco and Caitlin can whip something up. Should I get your team’s help too?”

 

“Their expertise is not on this sort of thing but it’s worth a shot.”

 

“Think you can come over at Star City? You’re the one with speed now so…”

 

“I think I can. After I drop by the CCPD. Joe said that I— _you_ have been given notice by the Captain. Afterwards I can proceed to the labs and go there.”

 

“That’s better, thanks. I don’t think phone conversation is enough to discuss this. I’ll go check the Arrowcave now. See you later.”

 

Forgoing the correction of the name, Oliver reminded him about dropping by to Thea's apartment instead. He wants her to be the first outsider to know of their predicament. The more in their circle know (the right people, at least) the more chances of returning to normal sooner.

 

Hopefully.

 

And they better get back to their respective bodies because it’s quite disturbing to listen to your own voice talking to you on phone.

 

* * *

 

“Felicity, I need to tell—”

 

“Thank God you’re here. Suit up. Bank robbery at Star City Bank. Spartan is occupied at hostage taking in—”

 

“Got it.”

 

**30 minutes later**

 

“Okay, there’s something I really have to—”

 

“Green Arrow, kidnapping at Sunnyvale Avenue.”

 

“Got it.”

 

**1 hour later**

 

“As I was saying—”

 

“Gateway car being chased by SCPD. Green Arrow, you’re on.”

 

“…Got it.”

 

**5 hours later**

 

“I’ve stopped a robbery, kidnapping, attempted escape, and chased down a rapist, subway mugger, and a snatcher. Can I talk to you now?”

 

“Yes! But after you take down the house thief who’s currently at the intersection of St. James and Sylvester Street.”

 

“…”

 

“Green Arrow, are you there?”

 

“Yes… and I’m on it.”

 

* * *

 

“Ramon.”

 

Cisco looked up from his screen, frowning slightly at the use of his surname and the lack of Barry’s usual entrance at the cortex. “Hey.”

 

“We need help.” Oliver decides to be on point with all his grim and seriousness. It helps all the time. “Barry and I had our bodies interchanged last night, and we need to get back as—”

 

“Oliver Queen.”

 

Oliver tilted his head, impressed and suspicious at the same time. “How did you know?”

 

Cisco merely shrugged, losing interest all of a sudden. “That impersonation is spot on, man. Nobody has else has kind of face.” He gestured at his face. “That Batman vibe expression.” He cleared his throat, mimicking the vigilante’s modulated voice and failing badly. “You have failed this city.”

 

Oliver is at lost. What’s going on here?

 

“What? I’m right. The Green Arrow is like Batman—he’s rich playboy by day; vigilante at night who has lots of toys and prowls and jumps from building to building. Except that he’s green so he should be called the Green Batman. Very original.”

 

Oliver pretends not to be insulted by that. “Right.”

 

“But hey, best impersonation so far. I’ll give you the point for that. Though it’s very accurate that’s why it’s so easy.”

 

Does he even want to know what he’s talking about? “Ramon,” Oliver tried again. “It’s me, Oliver Queen and I’m inside Barry Allen’s body.” He didn’t really mean to lay it out like that but it seems that he has to for people like Cisco.

 

And Cisco, _the nerve_ , snickered at him. “Oh yeah? You’ll like that, don’t you?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and then he’s far gone and laughing hysterically.

 

Oliver is never this frustrated. He doesn’t even want to dwell on what he said means. He could really use a punching bag right now and _if he doesn’t stop laughing, he’ll be one_ , but he doesn’t have anger management issues so he grimaced instead.

 

“Oh, c’mon, dude. It’s not like we don’t know about your flaming crush on Oliver.”

 

_Wait. What?_

Oliver is saved by an alert about a burning building.

 

* * *

 

Turns out, the house thief wasn’t the last one. More than ten more followed until Barry can finally say that the Green Arrow wasn’t exaggerating when he said the crime never sleeps in Star City. Thankfully, Central City's metahumans still need their sleep.

 

He arrives at the Arrowcave, sweaty under the leather of the costume. After multiple encounters like that, his body (the original) normally breaks down at some point if he doesn’t compensate for the energy lost. But having the vigilante's body barely makes him tired. Oliver has one hell of endurance and unbelievable reflexes that feel really foreign. Barry thought he would be fumbling to knock an arrow or two but the body seems to be familiar with the action that made it so natural. Though he didn’t get Oliver’s accuracy but it isn’t much of a disadvantage since he can mentally calculate distances and equally science-y stuffs.

 

Physics, bitch.

 

“So… can I finally talk to you now?” he asks, and then he notices Diggle. “Better yet, to both of you.”

 

Felicity turns around from her computer to face him, sharing a confused look with Diggle. “What is it that has your panties in a twist?” She suddenly looks alarmed, talking a mile a minute. “I mean, that’s an expression. I don’t mean to suggest that you’re wearing _panties._ ”

 

Barry laughs. Typical Felicity. “Okay, I forgot it’s funny when you do that.”

 

Felicity stops mid-rambling, eyeing him suspiciously. “Oliver? Are you okay?”

 

Barry paused. _Oh yeah, I'm Oliver. Oliver Queen doesn’t laugh like Barry does. Fuck._ “Actually, no,” he blurts.

 

Cue deafening silence.

 

Diggle cleared his throat.

 

“Do you happen to know anything at all about two souls interchanging?”

 

They stare at him.

 

“I could really use the help if you know something about it.”

 

They stare some more.

 

“Guys! It’s me, Barry. Oliver and I swapped bodies last night. We need help since we’re stuck,” he tries again after the unbelieving faces he’s receiving.

 

“Funny. I swear I’m hearing Oliver saying he’s Barry. John?”

 

“It’s… Interesting.”

 

Barry groans. Oliver did mention that it’s worth a shot, but damn, he doesn’t expect them to be this skeptical. He doesn’t know Diggle outside the vigilante business, and he dated Felicity once. He has more chances in convincing the latter, but that will mean mentioning their kiss in the train and no, Barry does not kiss and tell.

 

“E equals MC Hammer. Ring a bell?”

 

And it seems like it does when her eyes lit up in recognition.

 

After a few more questions, they’re finally convinced (but not without her gushing about seeing a dorky Oliver and, _that’s really hot_ , she says). He hopes Oliver is having a much better luck at S.T.A.R. Labs because as much as he’s giddy that somebody other than them finally knows, a solution is what they needed the most.

 

There’s a spark of hope when Felicity slips a worn calling card to him after rummaging from drawers. She mentions about giving the number a call since the person is knowledgeable in this sort of thing and is likeliest to be able to help them out.

 

**_John Constantine_ **

_Exorcist, Demonologist, and Master of the Dark Arts_

_(404) 248 –_ _7182_

This man better know the answer.

 

* * *

 

They meet up in that rooftop of that unknown building that has been serving as their rendezvous place since Barry’s first day being The Flash.

 

“So how are they at the labs?”

 

Oliver doesn’t really want to mention that it had taken him three metas to chase and running past the intended locations when they’re finally convinced that _I’m not Barry and it’s me Oliver and I’m not the fastest man alive_. “Fine. They said they’ll look it up. For the meantime, we’re stuck.” He crossed his arms. “And they also said about thinking of any altercations lately with an odd meta or being in contact with an artifact that could have possessed _magic_ within the past 24 hours.”   

 

He doesn’t. Barry snorted when asked. “The metahuman I faced yesterday is already locked up. And, trust me. It’s not him.”

 

“What makes you so sure?”   

 

“Unless glitters has other purposes that we don’t know of, then he’s not who did this.”

 

“Glitters?”

 

“He makes glitter bombs out of his hands.” He’s the fun version of that woman who’s actually a live bomb. “And I could have spent the whole night brushing glitters off the suit. Thank God for superspeed.”

 

“Don’t tell me he’s that one they named Party Popper.”

 

Barry grinned, and Oliver thinks, _can you please not do that? It looks weird on my face._ “Seems like you already met him, Ollie.”

 

 

 

They called Constantine after a lengthy debate on naming their villains. Thankfully, the man answered at third ring.

 

After some explaining regarding their predicament, they learned that it’s called a walk-in, in a sense. There were some religious words and names of gods thrown in that they barely understood. In the end, Constantine told them that it’s not intended to last long, much to their relief. Usually, it fades away in three days’ time; shortest is a day and a half.

 

If they’re lucky.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

_“It serves as a punishment before that only wears off when you learn your lesson, mate. Or if there’s a deed that you’re supposed to do and you did it, then you’re free.”_

And that’s the most elaborate he can get and it’s really _helpful._

 

Nope. It’s not acceptable. There has to be some general way of deactivating a spell (or whatever it is), because _damn it, I can’t accept that this is it._

 

There is one, Constantine says, but he isn’t sure whether Barry or Oliver will like it. Oliver listened since he’s getting desperate at the lack of progress, and _no, you didn’t say what I think you’re saying._

Constantine laughs as if the situation is some kind of joke, and that’s it for them.

Thank goodness Barry didn’t hear that.

 

“What did he say?”

 

“He can’t help us,” Oliver lies. “He’s in hell at the moment and quite occupied.”

 

Barry visibly deflates and Oliver wants to kick himself for it. “I suppose he has it worse. I mean, saying you’re _in hell;_ that’s a strong analogy.” Though he can’t really think of anything worse than not being on your own body.

 

“He means that literally.”

 

“Oh.” Barry seems to take that in with a bit of difficulty. He realizes he’s not the only one who forms otherworldly (literally) friendships.

 

“Wait, there’s a cell signal in hell?”

 

* * *

 

The thing about being an impossible yourself and seeing weird shits out there is that you take situations like this easily.

 

A week wearing each other’s body, they already get the hang of it. Barry gets better feel with the bow and arrows and voice modulator and _I’m not even into archery but this is cool_ , and then he remembered why he likes the Star City vigilante in the first place. Oliver gets better at controlling the speed and it’s good for him because he utilizes it to the fullest since he’s a good tactician as the vigilante, and now he has superspeed as well. It’s cool.     

 

But there’s the matter of their conflicting morals.

 

By Monday, there’s a headline in Star City about the Green Arrow ‘toning it down’ a notch, resulting in a dramatic decrease of body count. Coincidentally, a headline in Central City talks about The Flash roughing up even petty criminals these days.

 

They’re both due for a talk.

 

 

 

Their talk leads to arguing, and maybe it’s not a good idea in the first place since they never see eye to eye in the matter that’s why they never discuss it before, and more into _you do your job in your city, I do mine in my city_ and everybody’s happy.

 

They both end up frustrated for themselves that _god, I wish it’ll be over soon_ is what they’re both thinking, and in the middle of the verbal heat, Oliver’s wonderfully traitorous mind thinks back to what Constantine said.

 

_“Maybe it’s the universe trying to tell you you’ve had your fills of females, mate. Time to change course.”_

Jesus. Talk about the right timing.

 

So while Barry is talking and the words droning out on Oliver, his eyes landed on Barry’s lips—technically, _his_ lips, but you get what he means—and thinks that if Constantine is right, then kissing Barry is only what it takes to undo their curse, and right now that’s _very_ easy to do.

 

 _And tempting_ , if he listens to the other voice in his head.

 

But he doesn’t because nothing feels right about it.

 

It’s not like they’re a hopeless case, and it’s not as if their respective teams are not doing everything they can. Oliver decides to put his faith on them instead. That sounds more like him—patient and logical.

 

In his defense, he doesn’t know that person who had the brilliant thought that he should crash his lips with Barry’s.

 

Nah.

 

* * *

 

Barry knows Malcolm Merlyn by association with the Team Arrow and the Vandal Savage incident. But in his mind, he’ll always be the _Green Arrow’s First Main Villain_. Like if ever they’ll be in a show, Malcolm will be the first season’s big bad dude who never gets killed because the main character’s sister is actually his daughter, and she’s not unimportant either.

 

It plays interestingly in Barry’s imagination that he even counts himself in as The Flash who gets his own spin off, and pops on random episodes in Oliver’s show. They’re neighbors in terms of cities so it’s not impossible and ludicrous.

 

Hey, that’s not actually a bad plot.

 

His mind is currently on tv shows that’s why when he saw Malcolm appearing at Thea’s apartment from the shadows, he suddenly remembered a certain character from _Game of Thrones_. Particularly when he noticed Merlyn’s cybernetic left hand.

 

The side of the hand is not the same but it may or may have reminded him of Jaime Lannister. 

 

And when he heard the unmistakable _little shit_ muttered under Merlyn’s breath, Barry may or may not have said it aloud.

 

* * *

 

They’re both getting better at getting used to being The Flash and the Green Arrow in the aspect of crime fighting; on the other aspects? Not so much.

 

Oliver just _can’t_ be Barry’s version of The Flash who the city and its people love. He’s not used to the cheering of people and the love of kids. The Flash is a family-friendly superhero and Oliver’s vigilante has never been considered that way. It’s all new to him—pleasant but scary to familiarize with.

 

Barry just _can’t_ be Oliver’s version of Green Arrow. The Green Arrow is calculated, methodical, ruthless (during tough call), and is hated by most of the people at Star City. Barry is not used to the frightened faces of people he saves. It’s sad to think that if ever the vigilante suddenly meets his end, nobody will care.

 

The more Barry sympathizes with him, the larger his respect for Oliver grows.

 

* * *

 

There has to be a rulebook when taking a bath in a different body, or else Barry will continue taking showers with closed eyes and it’s not fun.

 

He’s tempted to look all the time, alright. But, _please_ , he has incredible self-control. As much as this is a thing that can’t be helped, he doesn’t want to feel like he’s seeing something that should only be exclusive to Oliver’s eyes or his lover’s. It doesn’t sit right with Barry.

 

But screw self-control, he’s _curious._

Once in a bathtub, he finds out for the first time that Oliver’s scars are more pronounced when wet, same with the tattoos. He already figured that Oliver has impressive abs—whole body, in general. Everybody knows that. Heck, even the salmon ladder knows that.

 

But, no, Barry hasn’t seen the package yet. And suddenly, he feels dirty for even thinking because it’s like being unfair for his friend’s chastity.

 

But you know the saying, _curiosity kills the cat_.

 

And it will kill Barry too. Probably.

 

Though it’s just a teeny tiny peek.

 

When he finally sees it, he’s even more impressed.

 

And in need of a much colder shower.

 

 

 

Oliver, on the other hand, is more professional during baths. He doesn’t have to talk himself about curiosities and such. There’s detachment when he washes himself, _clinical_ sort of way. 

 

But sometimes when his thoughts are really far away and drifting, he absentmindedly runs his hands a bit longer on Barry’s skin. He admires how soft it is, and don’t get him started on how _flawless_. Barry’s body is a sight for sore eyes, something refreshing whenever Oliver looks at the mirror naked.

 

Okay, he realizes that’s a bit creepy since it sounds like he’s checking out his friend. But he’s simply admiring. That’s all.

 

Ha! Professional, my ass.

 

* * *

 

A month of them still stuck, they began considering changing their opening monologue.

 

_My name is Oliver Queen. After five years in hell, I returned home with only one goal: to save my city. I used to be the Green Arrow. Then an accident made me the impossible. Now, I have to be someone else, I have to be… The Flash._

_To Understand what I'm about to tell you, you need to do something first. You need to believe in the impossible. Can you do that? Good. My name is Barry Allen. I am no longer fastest man alive. To the outside world, I’m Oliver Queen, but secretly I use his bow and arrows to fight crimes. One day, I’ll find who did this and get justice. I am the Green Arrow._

And they’re about to when they both agreed on the matter, albeit begrudgingly.

 

Until a call from S.T.A.R. Labs came.

 

 

 

Oliver would have find it suspicious that it takes them this long to finally form a solution because Team Flash is composed of great minds and it only takes them a day (or two at most) to whip up an equipment that is proper against the current meta or suitable for the disagreeable situation they find themselves in. But right now he’s too occupied at the thought of returning back to his body.

 

They’re both reminded that it’s not tested and there’s no guarantee that it’ll work a hundred percent. It’s risky but what choice do they have exactly?

 

In hindsight, they have expected this to happen, but they’re not _this_ prepared for how shitty it went downhill.

 

 

 

There’s an onslaught of white hot pain in every part of him, particularly where Oliver’s scars are placed and it _fucking hurts so much_ that has Barry on the floor, yelling, _stop, stop, stop!_

 

And, _God_ , his head wants to explode at the sudden vivid flashes in his mind. They’re Oliver’s memories of his five years in Lian Yu, things he witnessed and experienced there in order to survive, the relationships he formed in the island for him to survive, the decisions he had to make, again, to survive. There’s too much death and hurt and suffering and Barry is not ready for them all. He’s not ready to feel for himself how broken Oliver is, to know what Oliver’s sacrifices are, and to know all his regrets he keeps to himself.

 

He cries to himself because he finally understands—understands that Oliver’s heart is already full of pain and yet it has a small part that he carefully guards, reserved for those he loves and holds dear the most.     

 

But mostly, Barry cries for Oliver and how selfless the man truly is.

 

 

 

There should be a limit on how life can torment a person.

 

It’s not fair, Oliver thinks, that Barry’s simple enough life as a child got ruined by a hatred that existed in the future. A boy so young got rid of most of his childhood with his real family. A boy so innocent experienced a phenomenon beyond his comprehension. A boy of eleven witnessed his mother got murdered and father taken away for it.

 

 _It’s not fucking fair._  

 

And yet despite it all, the boy grew up to be the man that he is now, with a heart that has a place inside for everyone—the good, the bad. That no matter how he was tainted with sadness, he doesn’t fail to smile and light up the lives of everybody around him. He places others above himself that he tends to forget that he has feelings too.

 

Barry Allen is too good for this cruel world.

 

Oliver is overwhelmed by something else then. Part of Barry’s memories is his encounters with him, records of Oliver’s rare smiles and his every frowns. He realizes that the younger man holds a huge admiration for him that Oliver thinks he doesn’t deserve. But it’s flattering to think that for a person who is the embodiment of light itself, he’s attracted to someone like Oliver who barely has an ounce of that.

 

He knows that Barry is too good for him.

 

But for once, Oliver wants to be greedy and selfish.

 

* * *

 

They both found themselves back to their rooftop after the incident.

 

It’s not that they’re avoiding the team and blames them for what happened. They tried their best and they failed, that’s it. Nobody intended for their memories to interchange instead of their bodies. An experimental failure, that’s all.

 

But Oliver can’t help the apology that slips past his lips. He surprises himself the most, and doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. Yet it feels proper for the somber mood.

 

And then he’s caught off guard by the lips planted on his.

 

It takes a full minute to comprehend that Barry is in fact kissing him before Oliver decides to do the same. There’s something natural in it that he can’t explain, but pleasant all the same.

 

He knows he’s putting too much thought over an act so simple, and so he closes his eyes and let himself _feel_ instead.

 

They both pull away an inch apart from each other’s faces for a bit of air. When Oliver looks at him, he finds Barry’s emerald eyes staring back in shock.

 

He then feels the comfortable familiarity of being in your own skin.

 

And he knows that he’s back. They both are.

 

Barry lets out a chuckle. “I didn’t know it’ll work.”

 

“You know?”

 

“I saw it.” And Oliver understands what he means. “And I know why you didn’t do it before.”

 

The older man merely hums, pulling Barry against him. He inhales the smell of ozone and night breeze that it feels so right to be there and then and doing this.  

 

Barry remains in Oliver’s arms like it’s the safest place on earth. Everything seems enough for the both of them that they hardly need words.

 

“Do you think if we kiss for the second time we’ll be changing bodies again?” Barry asks.

 

Oliver raised a brow, amusement coloring his face. He knows very well that it doesn’t work that way. “Why don’t we try and see?”

 

And they do, for the whole night.

 

It’s a weird start, but they will be fine.

* * *

 

  **THE END**    

**Author's Note:**

> wow, thanks for bearing with this fanfic


End file.
